


No More What Ifs

by toomanyunfinishedfics



Category: Persona 5
Genre: (Just for one prompt and you don't really have to know much, (Which also has major spoilers for November of P5), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Crossdressing, For both P5 Vanilla and P5R, For the second prompt in particular, M/M, New Game Plus, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Role Swap AU, Saiki Kusuo no Psi nan Crossover, Specifically the bad end of P5R, Spoilers, Time Travel, aside from the fact that Touma Akechi talks A Lot lmao)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24044881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanyunfinishedfics/pseuds/toomanyunfinishedfics
Summary: Two Fools, and the complicated web that is their bond.(A one-shot compilation of 8 separate drabbles focused on Akira and Akechi's not-so-perfect relationship.)
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 101





	No More What Ifs

**Author's Note:**

> ~~The title has nothing to do with the fic itself, I'm just bad at coming up with titles so I used one of the P5R songs lol~~
> 
> So apparently today is Goro day (5/6), which means it's the perfect time for me to just dump all of these drabble prompts here lmao
> 
> These were all written for my friend [@heavymoons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavymoons/pseuds/heavymoons) because she's awesome and loves Akeshu and these were all of her favorite fanfic tropes, so I decided to surprise her with these drabbles as a gift (and as a fun little venture outside of the usual Pegoryu that I write lmao) <3 Everyone should go check out her fics, especially her NG+ fic! It's so well-written and has really cool css stuff edited in for the dialogue choices and it's just overall really amazing!! ;u; <333

_1: Crossover (P5xSaiki)_

Of all the people in Japan to cross his path, and of all the people in the world to share a surname with, it just had to be the most _irritating_ person in existence.

Touma Akechi.

There was no more relation between them than any other “Satou” or “Suzuki” out there, yet the oblivious, vexatious parasite seemed to thrive off of attaching himself to Goro with that as an icebreaker. Whether it was to leech off of his fame or--presumptuous and utterly _ridiculous_ as it seemed--because he genuinely believed himself to be on the same intellectual level as Goro was anyone’s guess.

Even Goro himself had trouble pinning down Touma’s motives--not to mention his uncanny ability to seek Goro out when he absolutely did not want to be found, least of all by _him_.

God, and people had the nerve to claim that _he_ talked too much? He would love for nothing more than to sit the ignorant masses that berated his supposedly long-winded deductions down with Touma for even just a few minutes--because Touma Akechi just would. Not. Stop. _Talking._

Even now, as Goro’s gaze flitted around, searching for an escape route without ruining his own reputation by doing as he truly wished right now--bolting away as fast as his legs would take him, shoving aside anyone who obstructed his path--Touma was still talking, an annoying buzzing in his ear that chipped away at Goro’s composed facade with each millisecond that passed.

(Actually, what he said before? That was a lie--he wasn’t wishing he could run away, he was wishing that the entire surrounding area would turn their heads away for just a few seconds so Goro could _permanently silence_ this annoying pest without dealing with the consequences of his actions reaching Shido’s ears and jeopardizing his carefully laid-out plans.)

(Oh, if only this exasperating walking headache that had affixed itself to his life without his consent had a Shadow. At least then he would have an outlet for the irritation that was bubbling up inside of him. Sadly, he’d already checked and came up with no results, meaning Goro was forced to abide by the rules of society, in which murdering a person in the middle of Shibuya just for talking too much was somewhat frowned upon.)

Just as Goro was beginning to weigh the pros and cons of leading Touma to a secluded area and disposing of him anyway, societal appearances be damned, his saving grace came into view: though it was brief, he caught sight of a familiar head of messy black hair walking through the crowd, and made an immediate beeline in his direction with a smile that could just barely pass for his usual pleasant look.

Especially as he heard Touma following him--and god, was he _still_ talking? Did this person even stop to _breathe?_ If Goro wasn’t the target of Touma’s focus, then he might have even felt a bit of intrigue in observing him from an outsider’s standpoint.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have that luxury.

“Akechi,” Akira greeted with only the slightest hint of surprise, his gaze shifting over to the blond trailing behind him before flickering back over to look at Goro in silent inquiry.

Of course, Goro wasn’t about to give Akira any answers, nor was he about to start begging for help--he merely needed a socially acceptable justification to separate himself from Touma, and having plans with another person was the perfect excuse. He could (at least begrudgingly) admit that Akira was a step above the others in his ragtag group as far as intelligence and perception went, which made him the perfect accomplice for extracting himself from this ridiculous situation: Akira would know better than to ask questions, and his foolish morals wouldn’t allow him to turn a blind eye to a friend in need (even if he was _not_ Akira’s friend, not by any stretch of the imagination).

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” Goro said with a pleasant, TV-worthy smile. “I got caught up in conversation with my… _acquaintance_ , here.” Turning his attention over to Touma--who had finally, by the grace of any god or devil that was listening, stopped talking--and fixing him with the same smile tinged with a look of faux-regret, he added, “I’m sorry to have to cut our… _conversation_ short, but Kurusu-kun and I _really_ must be going--”

“Oh, were you two in the middle of a discussion? I don’t mind waiting.”

_What._

Goro nearly gave himself whiplash as he turned to look at Akira, flabbergasted disbelief briefly slipping through the cracks in his mask--and very much belatedly, as he took a proper look at Akira’s expression, he realized he’d forgotten to take into account one last factor when gambling on Akira playing along.

Though Akira’s expression remained impassive, his eyes--hidden behind the slight gleam of his glasses--were filled with mischief.

Touma immediately launched right back into whatever he’d been blathering on about, and though Goro hadn’t had the energy nor the desire to even fake being invested in the one-sided conversation before, he now found Touma’s words ringing in his ears as nothing more than white noise for a completely different reason.

With just a few words, Akira had taken Goro’s perfect plan and rigged it to blow up right in his face, all while he stood off to the side and watched with that infuriatingly smug look in his eyes.

It was so ridiculously _petty_ of him--never mind the fact that Goro’s own plan had been equally as petty, attempting to manipulate Akira into helping him escape a conversation without actually _asking_ for help--and it made Goro’s blood boil to know that Akira was now standing there, _laughing_ at him with that irritating gaze of his as he watched Goro suffer in silence.

All Goro could do now--with no other way out--was just grit his teeth and bear it with only the slightest occasional twitch in the corner of his eye, as he passed the time by picturing both Touma Akechi’s voice permanently silenced, and Akira Kurusu’s impish gaze permanently snuffed out.

Oh, how he was looking forward to November twentieth. It just couldn’t come fast enough.

* * *

_2: Post-Series AU **(P5R Spoilers!)**_

Akechi was smiling.

Everyone was smiling, and Akechi was with them all, laughing and smiling and _alive_.

He fit in with their group like there was no other place in the world that he was meant to be, and Akira knew that this was the right choice in the end.

Everyone was happy, so Akira was happy.

Everything in his friends’ lives were perfect, so everything in Akira’s life was perfect.

So, so perfect. Like a dream.

Makoto and Haru graduating was a bit sad, but expected--it would be odd if they stayed behind, so Akira was willing to accept them moving on, though they weren’t going too far for university.

Everyone else was still at Shujin, though, which was nice. Futaba was enrolling this year, and Yusuke had plans to transfer as well. It might affect his future as an artist, with no specialized art courses for him to take at Shujin, but….

But Yusuke was happy, so Akira was happy. Yusuke had his Sensei to guide him, anyway. His kind, encouraging Sensei.

Akechi wasn’t at Shujin, but that was okay, too. He was alive, and he was happy, and he made constant visits to LeBlanc to spend time with Akira. That was more than enough.

After all, even if his friends were busy with their own lives--Ryuji with the track team, Ann with Shiho and occasionally Morgana, Yusuke with his Sensei, Makoto with her sister and father, Futaba with her mother and Sojiro, Haru with her father, ~~Sumire~~ Kasumi with her gymnastics--Akechi’s life revolved around Akira’s. Whenever Akira was free, Akechi was free. Whenever Akira wanted to see Akechi, Akechi was there.

Like a dream.

Hours spent talking over cups of coffee, challenging each other to games of chess, even just basking in each other’s presence (the warmth of their bodies, the sound of Akechi’s heartbeat against his ear)....

The world glitched around Akira, and he smiled.

Everything was perfect.

* * *

_3: Crossdressing_

“Kurusu-kun, while I appreciate your… _enthusiasm_ , I believe this might be a bit much.”

Akira raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he smoothly flipped his hair over his shoulder. “And why is that, detective? You wanted some help investigating, didn’t you?”

Akechi massaged the bridge of his nose, unsure of whether he was feeling more exasperated or amused--which, he supposed, was a constant when dealing with the infuriating enigma that was Akira Kurusu. “Yes, I admit that much,” he began slowly, exercising what little patience he had, “however, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t seem to recall ever mentioning a need for you to dress up in a _woman’s police outfit_ . In fact, I specifically remember telling you to dress in a manner that would attract _less_ attention, not _more_.”

Akira’s grin was somehow mischievous and innocent at the same time, an angel’s halo hiding the devil horns below. The irony of Akechi being the one to make the mental comparison was, irritatingly enough, not lost on him.

“Oh, but wouldn’t you consider a police outfit the perfect way to blend in on an investigation?” Akira responded, waving a hand flippantly. “Trees, forests, you know how it goes.”

Akechi let out a long, suffering sigh. “And why a _woman’s_ police outfit, dare I ask?”

“Because I make it look good?”

Akechi fixed him with a stare that simultaneously said _Are you serious right now?_ and _I am regretting ever asking you to accompany me._ Akira stared back, as if daring Akechi to say he was wrong.

He couldn’t.

God damn it.

Gritting his teeth with a plastic smile on his face, he gestured for Akira to enter the building with a saccharine, “ _Ladies_ first.”

Akira had the audacity to _wink_ at him as he sauntered-- _sauntered!_ \--past, and Akechi forced himself to take a deep breath, letting it out slowly before reluctantly following Akira inside.

If he made a point of not looking in Akira’s direction for too long throughout the entirety of their investigation, then it was simply because there were more pressing matters to attend to than how his _acquaintance_ looked in a pencil skirt and tights.

* * *

_4: Role-swap AU_

If there was one person in the world that Akira loathed with every fiber of his being, second only to Masayoshi Shido, it was Goro Akechi.

The detective was intelligent, charming, all pleasant smiles and witty comments, drawing people to him like moths to a flame.

What was Akira, by comparison? Just a criminal, taken from his home for a crime he never committed, forced to live out his probation in a dusty attic as he dealt with people whispering rumors all around him.

It was almost laughable, really. The only reason he was able to keep his head down and behave was thanks to the discovery of the Metaverse, and the power that came with it.

He could only imagine what all of those mindless, gossiping idiots would have to say about him if they knew the crimes he’d _actually_ committed in that world, and not the baseless--and frankly ridiculous--lies that they spread throughout the school like wildfire.

Akira had no regrets, though: each and every disgusting, corrupt adult that he targeted deserved what had come to them. If he could do the same to Akechi, to wipe that perfect smile off of his face, then it would almost make getting sent to Tokyo on probation worth it--but alas, it seemed that Akechi had neither a Palace nor a Shadow hiding away in Mementos.

The same couldn’t be said for Shido, of course, but--as irritating as it was to admit--Shido’s Palace was far beyond what he could handle on his own, no matter how badly he wanted to take that bastard down for ruining his life.

So for now, he would bide his time, would continue cooperating with Shido with the fool no wiser to Akira’s identity nor his plans, and would wait for the perfect moment to catch Shido off his guard so he could get his revenge.

After that… well.

Akira was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the bell above LeBlanc’s door jingling, and as soon as he saw who stepped through the door, he slid a smile onto his face as smoothly as putting on a mask.

After that--he mused as he set a cup of coffee down in front of Goro Akechi, leader of the Phantom Thieves and unwitting pawn in both Shido and Akira’s plans--he would finally be free.

* * *

_5: Canon Divergence_

Akira was a dead man.

Not literally, at least not this very second--but as far as the world was concerned, Akira Kurusu, Joker, Leader of the Phantom Thieves, had committed suicide after being taken into police custody.

Of course, he was still alive, and still hiding away in the attic of LeBlanc as he bided his time until they reached the end of Shido’s Palace so they could send the calling card and make their grand reveal. He wouldn’t let himself die so easily, after all. He was smarter than that, more careful than that.

At least, that’s what he thought up until he came downstairs, seconds before the front door of LeBlanc opened to reveal the one person in the entire universe that Akira had been praying to avoid.

Standing in the doorway of the cafe, looking more genuinely stunned than Akira could ever remember seeing him, was none other than Akira’s executioner himself: Goro Akechi.

Cold dread washed over him from head to toe, rooting him to his spot as the two of them stared each other down without blinking, as if trying to process the fact that the last person they ever expected to encounter was suddenly here in front of them.

Slowly, a smile crept up onto Akechi’s face, an expression made even more sinister by the lack of warmth in his eyes.

“Kurusu-kun,” Akechi greeted, as if they were merely two friends bumping into one another, “what a surprise. It seems you’re doing well.”

Akira, as he would like to reiterate, was a dead man--except this time, he wasn’t being figurative.

There was only one thing his mind could come up with to say in the maelstrom of panic rushing through his head, only one word that could work its way through the fear seizing his vocal chords and slip past his lips, only one single utterance that could sum up everything at this very moment:

“ _Fuck_.”

* * *

_6: Vampires_

Akira Kurusu was, quite possibly, the most interesting yet _infuriating_ being on the face of this planet.

It wasn’t even the fact that he wasn’t human that irritated him--no, Akechi dealt with Akira’s kind more often than he’d like, given his profession as a hunter--but rather, it was the ridiculous cat and mouse game between them that Akira seemed to derive some sort of perverse pleasure from.

Never had Akechi encountered a vampire that lived to tell the tale. Until Akira came along, that is.

Yet here Akira was, standing across from him behind a cafe bar, looking for all intents and purposes like a normal, human high school student and not the supernatural bane of Akechi’s existence as he calmly served him a cup of coffee.

There was an unspoken agreement between the two of them, one that Akechi wasn’t entirely sure when he agreed to nor when it was even proposed, that LeBlanc was a… safe space, so to speak. Here, they weren’t vampire and hunter--they were merely Akira and Akechi, two people who Akechi could perhaps say… _enjoyed_ each other’s company. Somewhat. On occasion.

If only because the coffee was delicious, and Akira’s sharp wit was more entertaining than engaging with the majority of his dim-witted peers and the even dimmer-witted adults that surrounded Akechi on a daily basis.

Yet once they stepped foot outside the cafe, their game would resume as always: with Akechi gaining the upper hand one night, as he basked in the sight of Akira on his knees before him in clear exhaustion, only to find himself pinned to an alleyway wall the next, with Akira’s fangs teasing his neck and Akira’s breath ghosting over his skin sending shivers (of dread, of repulsion, of humiliated _fury_ ) down his spine.

It was a never-ending cycle, with no winner nor loser in sight--yet somehow, despite his ire, despite the mar to his perfect record…

Akechi found himself walking away from each encounter with a sharp smile, his mind already putting together a plan of action for the next time that aggravatingly intriguing vampire dared to cross his path.

* * *

_7: Time Travel_

It was the beginning of his probation, hardly a few days after first stumbling his way into Kamoshida’s Palace alongside Ryuji, when Akira first realized he could go back in time.

The jump had happened purely by accident: he’d been reviewing the last time he wrote in his journal (which he really needed to try and update more constantly, if only to give Sojiro one less reason to breathe down his neck over this whole probation business), thinking about his screwups both in class and in the Palace earlier that day and how he wished he could just go back and redo everything--and then suddenly there was a searing heat in his chest, his vision briefly going black before he suddenly jerked back to consciousness.

 _Three days in the past_.

It was disorienting, and terrifying, and--as soon as Akira calmed down enough to process it--absolutely _amazing_.

No more wrong answers in class. No more studying for tests. No more screwing up infiltrating the Palace, or messing up interactions with his confidants, or _anything_.

Needless to say, Akira updated his journal with a _lot_ more frequency, almost to the point of being obsessive about it--but it was well-worth it if it meant making sure everything in this year went right.

~~~

Everything was not going right.

Or rather, it _had_ \--with some hiccups along the way that Akira smoothed out with no one any the wiser--been going right, up until Okumura.

He’d jumped back in time to prevent Okumura’s death, only to end up getting shot in Okumura’s place, nearly dying before he could manage to reach inside himself for the power that allowed him to travel back. He tried again, and this time managed to save Okumura _without_ getting shot, only for Okumura to fall into an unexplained coma days later.

It was probably horrible of him to be unfazed-- _relieved_ , even--by the news, but after his near-death experience combined with knowing that Okumura was supposed to be dead, hearing that he was in a coma was the best outcome he could hope for.

Besides, he’d already written in his journal again after he’d escaped Okumura’s Palace alive. He couldn’t go back to try and change things now even if he wanted to.

He was beginning to learn that even his time-traveling had limits, and unfortunately there were just some things that couldn’t be avoided. Okumura needed to be out of the picture, so if Akira wasn’t going to let him die, then the universe was just going to find another way to take care of him instead.

It was a selfish, yet oddly comforting thought.

~~~

At least, until Goro Akechi was involved.

When the shutter came up, separating Akechi from the rest of the group and trapping him into a fate of certain death, Akira’s first instinct was to reach inside himself for the power to turn back time.

He could fix this. He _had to_ fix this. He--

He couldn’t fix this.

The power that had come so freely to Akira throughout the entire year resisted Akira’s call now, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how desperately he focused because he _couldn’t let it end like this_ , not when there was still so much left unsaid between them, not when they had a _promise_ to keep--

Hardly even aware that he’d collapsed to his knees, his head resting against the shutter and his hands clutching his chest, Akira’s focus turned inward.

This power was _his_ to control, damn it, and he wasn’t going to let it stop working _now_ of all times.

Even as his surroundings faded away, the voices of his distressed teammates slowly disappearing as Akira’s vision turned black, he didn’t allow his focus--his determination--to waver for even a moment.

There was one option left: one final, drastic, irreversible measure that he could take, one that he hadn’t so much as entertained the thought of no matter how high the stakes had risen throughout the year and how close to death he’d come.

But for Akechi--his friend, his rival, the person who stole Akira’s life and then gave his life in turn to protect him… he would do it.

~~~

**_TRUE RESET?_ **

**_> YES_ **

**_> NO_ **

* * *

_8: NG+_

Dying, Akechi found, was significantly less unpleasant than finding oneself inexplicably alive and thrust one year into the past.

At least you have some understanding of what to expect when you’re dying. This, however, went far beyond the realm of what he’d braced himself for the moment he trapped himself alone with his murderous doppelganger.

Thankfully, Akechi was nothing if not a calm and rational person--so after letting Loki run rampant in Mementos with a burst of hysteric fury until he could hardly see straight from exhaustion, he sat himself down and began to put together a plan of action.

Not only did being one year in the past mean one year of having to deal with Shido’s bullshit all over again, but it also meant having to deal with the _Phantom Thieves_ all over again.

Having to deal with _Akira Kurusu_ all over again.

A smirk slowly worked its way onto his face.

Actually, perhaps this whole situation could work to his advantage, now that he thought about it. He had to have been sent back for a reason, after all--and who better to help him enact a swift revenge on Shido than his dearest _rival_ , the person who swore to bring Shido to justice in his name a lifetime ago?

He was through being manipulated and playing Shido’s game.

Now it was time for _Akechi_ to be the one pulling the strings, and he would take immense satisfaction out of playing the puppeteer for a change.

Even if he’d experienced this year once before, Akechi had a feeling it would be anything but boring, this time around.


End file.
